Saving Prince Arthas
by Georgaina
Summary: Prince Arthas, last surviving member of the House of Menethil, seeks to redeem himself from all the hurt he's caused when in service of the Lich King, and ultimately falling to the darkness. With the help of a handful of friends new and old, will he be able to reclaim the remaining bits of his humanity and be able to rule Lordaeron like he was born to do?
1. Preface

.

 **Saving Private Arthas**

Preface/Chapter 0.5

 _Sneaky Intrusion_

* * *

"Right, tell us the story," said the elf of the party with a feigned warm voice. It took little for the elf to wish to hype up whatever what was about to be said, it seemed. The mere notion of his new young rogue companion talking to Highlord Tirion Fordring had been enough to set his sights on a mission with her.

She cleared her throat loudly, ensuring the elf would shut his greedy mouth before she spoke. "Just this morning, my scouts informed me of a Cult of the Damned procession leaving from Icecrown Citadel to the Cathedral of Darkness, bearing an artifact. And now I learn that it might be Arthas' own heart... a thing containing the last bit of his remaining humanity. This is a sign of the Light. As long as such an artifact exists, there is a chance that Arthas Menethil can become a man again! Meet me at the cathedral's entrance. Be sure to bring a cultist's hood – we're going incognito."

"That's what he said?" asked the little gnome with the twirled mustache. "That doesn't sound safe."

"That's what he told me," responded the human rogue with a sigh. "Are you questioning my ears?"

"I wouldn't dream of questioning anything from a lovely lady, such as yourself," said Monroe to Tabitha, who clearly wasn't welcoming his advances.

"Fat elf," she mumbled so softly that he couldn't hear. "Well, I suggest we be on our way to kill some cultists, before I loose my mind."

Monroe grinned. "For me that is already too late. I sure am glad Lord Tirion assigned me to your party." The wink he gave her was enough to darken her cheeks in anger.

"I will wipe that smile of your face with the edge of a dull blade, you snivelling –"

"Please! There's no need to use violence!" squeaked the gnome.

"A dull blade will hardly hurt him, Joe, fear not." Tabitha reached into the purse attached to her belt, grabbing her old trusty dagger to show it to the gnome. She kneeled in front of him as if she were talking to a small child, along with half a mind to pat his grey hair in the process.

"I would want to believe that, but I've seen you chop into plenty of things with that thing since our short trip through Howling Fjord."

"Hmpf, I bet she has.." sighed Monroe. Tabitha raced to his side, rapidly shoving the cold steel of her dull blade to his throat.

"What was that now?" she said calmly.

"Oh, nothing. Let's go and do what you told us to," said Monroe, just as calm as Tabitha, but she knew better than to fall for that. _They always piss themselves with fear when they see how quick on my feet I am._

"You mean what Lord Tirion _commanded_ us to do. Or would you like to join your demonic brothers in the Horde instead?"

That at least go a reaction Tabitha would want from her companions. "They are not my brothers. They are traitors at best."

"I thought the Argent Crusade were neutral?" sounded Joe's soft voice. Tabitha quickly shushed him, for fear of making the elf's newfound hatred disappear before a good fight.

"Good. Then let's kill some cultists. They are just as bad, after all."

It only took about ten minutes for the small party to reach the Cathedral of Darkness in full cultist clothing. Other than a slight hiccup with Monroe insisting they get into their roles fully by changing their haircuts, things had proved to be less troublesome than the party had anticipated. Even for Joe the gnome they'd managed to find something he could fit into, and to their delight, the disguises worked like a charm.

"You better not give us away, Joe. Stop shaking for Light's sake!" Tabitha hissed as they walked up to the corner in which Highlord Tirion stood. It had taken a moment for even Tabitha to recognise him, and she was rather used to sneaking into buildings with partners in disguise. To her displeasure, Monroe had some sort of sixth sense he used to spot Tirion's particular brand of magic, or perhaps he'd felt it. Or maybe he was just lucky, which was the best Tabitha's ego could hope for. In any case, they found him, and he was only too pleased to see them all.

"You brought company?" he asked, looking down to Joe and up to Monroe from the shadows of his mask. _Hm, maybe not too pleased._

"I have," answered Tabitha. "Is there a problem?"

"Well, they haven't unmasked you yet, so I suppose it's not too suspicious.. Are you sure he's going to be fine, though?" He made a slight gesture to Joe, who was still shaking in his boots from all the Scourge around him.

"You are too gentle, Highlord, for still allowing him to tag along." 'He's a coward, but his father paid me good money to remove his stereotypical gnome status,' she had wanted to add, but thought the better of it. _That would be the last thing to boost little Joe's confidence._ "But the elf told me you sent him."

"Let's not talk about this," Monroe said quickly.

"Indeed, we must drop this. We have an important task to fulfill," said the Highlord. Tabitha shook her head disapprovingly, but gave in all the same.

The party walked to the center of the cathedral in a hasty pace – something Joe was likely not too happy with. A few Cultists of the Damned turned their heads, but chose not to think anything of them walking there. Tabitha couldn't help but wonder if Arthas had picked his cultists from the slums of the old Undercity he grew up above. They certainly seemed to smell that way. The whole place had the stench of rotting corpses about it, but whereas others would winch away or pinch their noses shut from such a smell, Tabitha liked to train her nose to be alert. She tried to smell something else through it, and did find something she recognised as sewage smell; the most consistent smell to be found in the Undercity, for all she knew.

It was then that she saw what the Highlord had been after: the pulsing heart of the Lich King. _Light knows how it's still managing to move around at this point._ Whatever the dark ritual was the Cult was trying to perform with it didn't matter to Tabitha. She was completely absorbed by the object floating high in front of her. It was the strangest thing she'd ever seen, and she had to admit she'd seen a lot of strange things throughout the years. She could hear her companions speaking, or at least she thought she heard them. It was very difficult to tell for her, because their voices sounded like they were miles from her ears.

With an empty gaze, she stared at the frozen heart of the Lich King himself. _How can he exist without a heart? Surely he must be able to get it back.._

It was that thought that made her remember where she was, and what she had heard Monroe said before. The rogue turned on her heel, facing the Lich King himself, to her own surprise. Her shock turned into horror when she realized she'd been caught off-guard, and that she alone was still standing within arm's reach of the most vile person to have ever walked Azeroth, at least in Joe's words. The Lich King payed her little heed, however, being too preoccupied with whoever stood behind her. If Tabitha had found herself able to look away from him, she imagined she would have seen Highlord Fordring behind her, along with Monroe and Joe, most likely. What really got to her was the fact that they chose not to drag her back with them, or stop her when she had moved towards the heart. She really couldn't remember what had happened, and was even more surprised to learn that she apparently expected her companions to think worse of her than they appeared to have by leaving her near the artifact and the Lich King.

She redirected her eyes at the heart. Trying to understand what it was about it that made her loose herself. A new little voice appeared in her mind, sounding strangely similar to that of a young boy.

' _Will you help him?_ ' he asked her. _Well, I guess this is it. I've finally gone mad._

' _No, please. I'm very real. You have to help him!_ ' the boy shouted with an echoing voice, so loud it sent a chill rolling down Tabitha's spine.

 _Sure, what have I got to loose?_ Tabitha thought sarcastically, before coming with the crushing realization that she indeed had nothing to loose. _I'm a thief without friends and family, other than Monroe's male parts, who cares what happens?_

Without giving the matter another thought, she did the next most foolish thing she could think of other than staying near the Lich King waiting for him to turn her. She jumped to clasp the heart, feeling an unspeakable pain shook through her limbs. Her blood felt frozen instantly, but that only made her grasp onto the artifact more tightly, and made her want to drop it more willingly.

 _No, no, Tabitha! Don't steal it! Use it! s_ he told herself. _This is hardly a burglary job.._ As she felt her joints stiffen, she made one last ditch effort to throw it at the Lich King. She had no idea what she was doing, and neither did her company.

"Tabitha! What in the name of the Sunwell!" shouted Monroe. She heard him rushing to her side, and at that point, she realized the heart colided with the Lich King's body. It was like the thing had made her forget everything, including her position. She looked at it, seeing that her arms were more like icicles than anything she could still use. The ice crept up her from her hands to her shoulders in a slow pace, but everything else seemed to move in a slow pace as well. The rogue barely understood what was going on. And yet she was certain that this would mean the end, and she did what she hadn't done in years. She started to pray to the Light, hoping against all hope that she wouldn't turn undead. It was all she could do besides hoping that somehow, the Cult's ritual had turned the heart into an effective weapon. She couldn't think of it freezing Arthas like it was rapidly freezing her, but it ought to do something.

And she was right. That something it did was getting absorbed into his body. He instantly shrunk to what Tabitha could assume was his original height, but in that moment Monroe collided with her. She would have slapped him silly for it, had she not been in the process of freezing to death. The instant it had taken her to grab the heart and hit the Lich King with it felt like an eternity, and it was still going on. Tabitha was almost certain she could hear Joe right behind her, but she couldn't take her eyes off of her own arms. They still seemed to be in the process of turning to ice, and she had no idea how to stop it. The strangest thing yet was that she would not panic about the whole ordeal. True, it took a lot to get her to panic, but she had thought that dying would be a time in which she could not simply stay calm. Or was it because she was quite literally staying _cool?_ Tabitha couldn't tell, for she was falling face-first to the floor without any means to stop herself. _If my arms hit the ground in this state, surely they will scatter.._ was the last thing she could remember thinking before her world went black. That, and hearing a whisper from an unknown source, telling her, "I'm doomed."

* * *

 _Apologies to those who didn't agree with the slightly-changed scenario I created. It was how I remembered it initially, and thus became my vision for this preface._  
 _Oh, and I'm also sorry if the end feels a bit.. weird. It's thundering outside my windows and I absolutely hate it when the weather does that.. :(_

 _" **He who fights with monsters should look to it that he does not become a monster himself. For when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.** " –Friedrich Nietzsche_


	2. Chapter I - Rude Awakening

.

 **Saving Private Arthas**

Chapter I

 _Rude Awakening_

 _For this chapter (and likely for the majority of the story), I've switched the POV to Arthas'. From now on you can assume you'll read things from his perspective. I'll be sure to notify people of any changes clearly.  
_

* * *

Arthas gasped for air after the impact had smashed out the content of his lungs. He gripped his side with a gauntletted hand, only to discover that he was in armor to thick to feel through. The brightness around him was so overwhelming that he had no way of telling where he was, and it didn't help that he couldn't remember either. The smell of pine and grass was perhaps even more overwhelming than the intense light, if only because Arthas had trouble breathing through his nose in his current state.

He heard unfamiliar voices around him. Whoever they were, they didn't seem to happy with the situation. The young prince tried his best to distinguish the words, but either they were in a language unknown to him, or he was starting to become deaf.

"I cannot believe you would do that, Tabitha! What in the name of the Light got hold of you? You could have gotten us all killed!" Or perhaps he had just been too dazed to hear.

"I'm not sure if we're safe yet." Whatever this 'Tabitha' was referring too, Arthas couldn't see it. She seemed awefully casual about the situation, however, so Arthas chose not to worry too much about that which he could not notice.

The brightness settled a bit in his eyes, allowing him to view the shapes of the others. Two could be humans, and the third was definately a gnome. One was standing over another, and Arthas presumed the one sitting down to be the woman as he'd heard her voice coming from right beside him. From their shapes, he could swear they were looking at him, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why.

 _What was I doing last? I must have been in Northrend.. doing.. what exactly?_

"Incidentally, how did we get here, Monroe?" asked the girl. _What was her name again? Have I hit the ground that hard.._

"Why, I portalled us out of there!" answered the elf as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Good job bringing him," said the gnome. From his voice Arthas could hear his assumptions confirmed.

"Since when did you become the type for direct confrontations?" said the man named Monroe.

"Since you almost got us killed." That deadpan statement must have set Monroe off, Arthas figured. He didn't take it too well.

"Wh- Me?! What about Tabitha! She was the one grabbing the heart and throwing it at Ar– The Lich – whatever he is.." Arthas could hear him pant after just a few words. He rapidly decided that whatever it was they could be fighting about, he had to notify him of the particular situation he was having himself. It would be safest for the four of them to do so, he felt.

"Listen," he said with a stern voice, pushing himself up into a position he thought made him sit straight. It was as if all the blood left his head, making him more dizzy than ever and worsening his slowly improving vision back to what it was when he woke up. "I don't know how I got here or why I am here, but I think I'm badly injured. My apologies if I should remember who you are, but I really don't. I can't even remember or even see where we are."

The other must have been listening breathlessly, because Arthas couldn't hear them in any way. _Perhaps that thing they were so concerned about is here.._ It was like they were afraid to move, least of all make a sound. Arthas did likewise, only moving his eyes in a vague attempt to get them to function better.

"Look at me," the woman asked, being so close to Arthas' face that it made him jump, to his own embarrasement. He did as she asked, feeling increasingly uncomfortable from his lack of vision, and tried to look into the eyes he could not make out. He could, however, see a silhouet of her face, and cast his gaze in what he assumed was the right place.

"What are you trying –" began Monroe, but was interrupted by the gnome, who shushed him to silence.

"His eyes are sort of green. Were they always like that?"

Arthas wasn't sure who she was asking, but he decided to reply anyway. "Yes, they were."

"They glowed blue," whispered the gnome. "My brother told me.. When he saw him as a death knight. He was on a honeymoon.."

"Wasn't that the one who miraculously fought at the Wrathgate?" asked Monroe.

"No.. What are you on about?"

"Leave it, Joe. It's not worth it. If what your brother said is true, however.. Maybe Lord Tirion's assumptions were correct. Maybe the heart did contain his humanity."

"All of it?"

"Probably not. Look at his skin," said Monroe to the gnome. Arthas was beginning to see some more colour, but he was too busy taking in all the new information.

"What are you all talking about?" he asked, surprised by the sound of his voice. He sounded and felt completely broken. "What do you mean, 'death knight'? What happen–" He couldn't help but interrupt himself. His memories were slowly coming back, seemingly alongside his sight. He remembered a sword encased in ice, and he remembered Muradin. The impact of that memory made it impossible not to ask the next question. "Where is Muradin?" he whispered slowly, feeling his legs shake.

"Who's Muradin?" whispered the female.

"I'm pretty sure that's King Magni's brother," said Monroe, who Arthas could now recognise as an elf.

"Oh yes, the dwarf." The gnome coughed loudly. "I didn't mean it as an insult, Joe."

"How does he not remember these things?" said the elf.

"Maybe he's lying," said Joe.

"I don't think he is. He actually seems unable to see most of what is going on. Besides, no one can fool me that well."

"Says the girl who almost got all of us killed," mumbled Monroe. "And don't you dare get angry over that. You seem to have an annoying habit of overestimating yourself."  
"And you seem to have an annoying habit of being annoying. On top of the fact that you've known me for what is not even a full day."

"What about my humanity?" Arthas interrupted, still trying to make sense of what he had heard earlier, and neither able nor willing to concentrate on the bickering of all these new faces he was still unable to see.

"Some of it was left in the heart you threw away, from what I've heard. Evidently anyway," Tabitha told him. Arthas laughed, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement; it was like he'd gone mad. Nothing made sense.. And yet somewhere, he couldn't help but feel that this was a joke too strange to play on someone.

"I wouldn't consider this funny," said Monroe. "You and your Scourge killed what remained of my family." The bitterness of the elf's voice snapped Arthas out of his new train of ridiculous thoughts.

"What were you doing in Stratholme?" was the only question he could still manage. His breathing became heavier almost instinctively, feeling emotions he had mostly forgotten existed.

"' _Stratholme'_?" The elf sounded baffled by Arthas' guess. "Do you have any idea how many people.. This can't be true. What have you done, Tabitha?"

"Nothing," replied the female. "But perhaps it is a good thing that this has caused him some amnesia."

"It doesn't make sense. Not even in the slightest bit does any of this make any sense whatsoever." Monroe dropped into the grass, crossing his arms to his chest. "He was already taken by the Lich King when he did that. Why is the last thing he seems to remember something involving that dwarf.."

"The sword," said Joe.

Arthas could hear Tabitha gasp. "Where is it?" she said, her stance sudden panick. "Where is that Lightforsaken sword!"

"Here," said Arthas, holding up the weapon he'd suddenly felt himself sitting on as soon as it was mentioned.

"Well, Prince Arthas, there it is then." Tabitha's tone was one Arthas cared little for. As a prince, he had never gotten used to people scolding him much.

"What?" he asked, seemingly forgotten all the troubles he'd been notified of earlier, including those that were accusations of him being a murderer.

"Your soul, new old friend," said Monroe, his tone equally scolding.

"My – soul?" Arthas looked at the weapon, his vision returning to him so sudden that it was like he'd blinked water out of his eyes. Pain shot through the arm he was using to hold the weapon up, and in a reflex, he threw the weapon away to free himself from it.

"Don't do that!" snapped the elf, rushing to the weapon.

"Oh, what are you going to do, Monroe? Pick it up and end up like him?" Tabitha giggled cruely. "That will be the day."

"I was just making sure that – look, Prince Arthas should pick it up."

"Are we on royal title-terms with this guy again?" said Joe the gnome, sounding unusually stern for what Arthas had people tell him of gnomes. It took him a moment to grasp what he meant by it. _They seem to despise me.. but why?_

"I suppose we are," said Tabitha. "It seems awkward to call him anything else. I don't want to drop the formality altogether, because we're definately not on first name-terms with him."

The elf Monroe nodded his agreement, undoing his hair and uncloaking himself. "He doesn't look much like the Lich King, or act like him for that matter," he added. It was then that Arthas noticed the cult-like attire the trio wore.

"Where are we, anyway, Moroe?" Tabitha asked, glancing at Arthas from the corner of her eye. She must've noted his strange look, for she instantly went on to pretend he wasn't there.

"Elwynn, I think. That was my intention, in any case."

" _Elwynn?_ " Arthas repeated, his voice suddenly gone hoarse. Somewhere in a distance, he could hear a bird chirping, and the smell of mud and pine seemed more obvious than ever once he started paying attention to it.

"Yes, the forest of Elwynn. As in near Stormwind," Monroe said as if he were explaining all this to a child.

"I know where Elwynn is," said Arthas, trying his best not to snap at the people who already seemed to dislike him so much.

"Pick up the sword please," said Tabitha. "Then we'll talk about whatever it is you want to know."

"You seem afraid of it," noted Arthas as he did as he was bid.

"Of course I am," snapped Tabitha. "Don't you know what that cursed blade did to thousands of lives?"

Arthas wanted to reply with a "no", but as he picked the weapon up from the grass, the memories suddenly came flooding back to him so rapidly he stumbled and fell onto his back. It was as if the cursed thing had sent an electric shock through his body, rendering him unable to move and making him feel chilled to the bone. It was a familiar feeling, he soon came to realize, and he hated it all the more for it. It took him a long moment to gather his strength to get up again, and the party of three had come rushing to him in the meantime. The branches on the forest floor seemed to sting him even through all of his armor, somehow finding their way to whatever little gaps were there along with an annoying amount of mud and sand. His face felt slick because of it all.

"What happened?" said the gnome with a shaky voice.

"Nothing that need concern us, I'd say," said Monroe. "I'm sure he can take care of himself. After all, he's carried the burden of that blade for like a decade."

"That's true.." said Joe, his interest fading as quickly as Monroe's, and both retreated the scene.

Tabitha, however, seemed unconvinced by Arthas' ability to straighten himself. "If I lend you a hand, will I loose my soul to that thing?" She pointed at the blue blade that had spoken to Arthas in a thousand voices as soon as he'd picked it up.

"I would hope not.." he whispered, not at all certain if he should take it with him or leave it out in the open for some unfortunate soul to stumble upon it. _I used to be in it's power completely, but now I have little objection to just toss it into a nearby pond.._

Tabitha extended her hand anyway, but it was Arthas who refused to take it.

"It's not worth the risk," he told her, using the blade to push himself from the ground. _That's one way to make better use of it._

"Probably not for your average person, but I'm not worth that much." She gave him a slight smile right before she quickly turned on her heel and made her way back to her companions.

"No one is worth less than me at this point," he commented so softly that no one could hear.

* * *

They had been walking for about an hour before Monroe got to some sort of breaking point.

"I'm tossing off these robes," he stated as he literally tore them off his body and threw them at some bushes near the road they were approaching. "That road over there is bound to contain some people who will kill these Cult of the Damned bastards."

"Please don't ditch all of your clothes," Tabitha sighed. "That's something I really don't need to see.."

"Look, I may not have made the best impression before, but I had been travelling through Borean Tundra for months on my own for the most part. Forgive me if I acted a bit edgy," he said in a bitter tone.

"All of that hardly gives you a reason to harass people." Tabitha rolled her eyes as she began to tug at her own robes.

"I only harass people who can defend themselves."

"And that's something I should take as a compliment, I suppose?" she asked, making Monroe nod softly. He was clearly wishing this conversation was not taking place. "You truly are an idiot, you know that?"

"Leave it be," he said, tossing off the last bit of robe that he had to get rid of. Tabitha and Joe had been doing likewise, and smartly enough, they had all been wearing what Arthas guessed was their normal attire underneath it.

"You wish I was that easy," said Tabitha. "But I'm sure the Titans will give me plenty of annoying time around you."

"What are we going to do, anyway?" asked Joe.

"I was thinking we give this prince over here to King Wrynn and let him decide what to do with him."

That, at last, finally made Arthas dare to speak up for himself. "No, please don't."

"Give us one reason, and make it a good one," said Tabitha, crossing her arms to her chest.

"He'll never allow me to.. He won't understand.."

"Are you seriously trying to suggest that you don't deserve to be executed?"

"No. Not at all. I just want to try and make up for some of the horrible things I remember doing before that happens," said Arthas with a soft sigh. The thought of seeing his childhood friend in his current state and Varian's reaction to him made him dizzy.

"Things that you remember doing, hm?" said Monroe. "So chances are you don't even recall the worst things you did?"

"Probably not," Arthas admitted.

"Alright, what do you think is the worst you've ever done?"

Arthas took a deep breath, knowing that just trying to recall more would upset him further. If he didn't remember what the elf wanted him to remember, he was sure he would tell him anyway. "I heard the voice of your king as I picked up this blade. I don't remember doing it, but I think I ended his life." He said the words more quickly than he intended.

Monroe raised an eyebrow. "I'm taking that as a sign you don't remember what you did to the kingdom?"

"Leave that for now," said Tabitha. "I just want to know where you want us to leave you, because for no money in the world am I going to spend more time than necessary with you." Her bitterness got to Arthas more than he realized. Just the way she spoke to him made him loose all hope of redemption.  
' _You're not going to give up that easily, are you Prince Arthas?'_ Arthas tried his best to look neutral as he listened to King Anasterian's voice, who had had to introduce him earlier as Arthas could not recognise him before. ' _I'm sure you still have something worth fighting for. You must take that to help these people. Use it to help those still trapped in this cursed blade, including yourself._ '

 _This isn't real.. There is no way this can be real.._

' _As much as I, my people and your father wish it weren't, it is extremely true,_ ' said the elven king.

"My father?" Arthas repeated full of confusion.

"Looks like he finally remembers his worst personal deed," said Joe.

"Killing your father for his throne. Very classy indeed," said Tabitha.

Monroe cleared his throat, seeing as Arthas had fallen to his knees and was staring blankly at the forest floor. His weight with the armor made him sink into the mud ever so slightly, but Arthas was long past the point of caring about the way he presented himself to the world. "Hence the reason none of us are particulary interested in taking you halfway across the globe for your personal affairs, or wherever it is that you want to go."

"I won't expect you to," he whispered.

"Good, glad we straightened that out," said Monroe, already turning to leave. Tabitha immediately pulled Joe with her in the opposite direction. "Oh really, you're just going to abandon me?"

"You left first. Besides, I'm sure neither of us like you very much, right Joe?"

As Joe nodded, Monroe sped back to the duo, nearly making a comic stumble over the root of a tree. "I seriously doubt the gnome even likes you," he hissed. "I won't be made fun of any longer."

"And I won't let stupid men like yourself walk over me any longer," Tabitha hissed back.

"And I'm done with everyone fighting for no reason!" shouted Joe, throwing his hands in the air in a fit of anger. "I'll just go and tell my father straight up that I'm not as brave as his elder son was, nor will I ever be!"

As he stomped off in a direction in such a way that Arthas was unsure he knew where he was going, seeming to decide on things as he went along, but that didn't seem to bother the gnome very much. At the very least, the scene unfolding in front of him distracted Arthas from hating himself for what he now knew he'd done, and Light knew how many other horrid things.

"Hold on there," said Tabitha, leaning forwards in her running motion to grab the gnome by the shoulder. "I have only received half my payment. I can't just live on half of what I decide I should be paid for someone ultimately wasting my time."

"I don't even want to imagine what your jobs are like when they don't involve gnomes," mumbled Monroe, having been stopped in his tracks by the rogue's reaction.

"Thank you for never seeming to be able to not discriminate everyone you meet," hissed Tabitha. Monroe shook his head disapprovingly, but kept quiet nevertheless. Tabitha resumed to argue with Joe, who was trying to shrug her hand off so he could go on his way to the Tower of Azora, for all Arthas knew.

It took him some time to remember what he promised himself and King Anasterian. "I thought you said you weren't worth anything," Arthas said suddenly, trying to use this opportunity to fulfill the wishes of one of the kings he'd murdered.

"What?" Tabitha closed her eyes when she turned in his direction, and Arthas had a nasty feeling in his gut that it had to do with her remembering she hated him.

"We can use this situation we find ourselves in to become better people, all of us." He got up slowly, getting mildly distracted by the heavy armor he was wearing as he tried to wipe sweat off his brow with a gauntletted hand. _I can't move, I'm getting baked, and more than half of Azeroth's population will probably recognise me like this. After I get these people to cooperate, the next thing I'm doing is getting rid of it._

"And why should we listen to you?" sneered Monroe. Arthas could not help but notice that the elf had a blade in his hand at this point.

' _Tell them. They need to know that by helping you, they help all those trapped in this blade._ '

 _They won't want to help me, would they?_ Arthas thought to himself.

' _No. They would probably not want to help you, but they would want to help their fallen breatheren._ ' King Anasterian replied, his voice echoing through Arthas' mind.

 _You can hear me?_ He thought, distinguishing the individual words in his mind more than normally.

' _I can. Even I am not sure why it's only me you can hear, but I've made the decision to make the best of the situation. I simply ask you to do the same._ '

This new bit of information immediately flooded Arthas' mind with questions. But as he now knew Anasterian could hear him, he also knew the king was avoiding his questions, at least for now. It was now that he began to feel the need to please King Anasterian, if only because he wasn't sure if his father could see him still.

 _If I've killed my own father, then surely he is also in that weapon._

' _More reasons to help us, I hope?_ ' asked Anasterian. Arthas nodded to himself, turning his attention back to the party in front of him, who had seemed to despise eachother so much just a mere minute ago.

"Well?" said Tabitha. "You do not have a reason, do you?"

"I do," said Arthas, unsheathing the sword he now remembered as Frostmourne, and held it up. "The souls trapped in this blade deserve to be laid to rest."

Monroe gasped at it, and Tabitha pressed her mouth together, neither able to come with a good counter to that.

When someone finally spoke up, it was the last person Arthas had suspected. "That's something I'm willing to fight for," said Joe, twirling his mustache between his fingertips. Tabitha merely nodded, still seeming a bit reluctant to be on the same side as Arthas, but he could hardly blame her for that.

"Where to?" said Monroe softly.

"I'm not sure yet," said Arthas, undoing his cloak and tossing it away carelessly. "But not to Stormwind. Somewhere we are needed, and eventually we are bound to find the answers to our problem."

"The Light," said Tabitha. "We do need to be in Stormwind. We need to go to the Cathedral, and –"

"No," interrupted Arthas, hearing the voice of King Anasterian in the back of his mind. "I need to find a way to communicate with Uther the Lightbringer." He gestured towards the blade, and making a feeble attempt to not ponder Uther's death too much. _Soon, I will remember all of the atrocities I've commited._

' _Just try not to loose yourself, Prince Arthas,_ ' Anasterian told him. ' _Do not fail us._ ' Those last words sounded more like an order than a suggestion, and it made Arthas all the more determined to follow them.

"Who would know how to do such things?" Tabitha asked a bit unsurely.

"Perhaps the Kirin Tor would know how to do something similar to that," suggested Monroe. "I would usually place my bets on high elven mages, but seeing as most are either dead or demon ridden, the Kirin Tor would be the next best thing."

Arthas assumed that what Monroe said was a reference to that something he'd done to his kingdom, but chose not to respond to it. But unable to stop thinking about it, the answer to their problem became very clear to Arthas. He had no way to know who was alive and who was not at this point, but just the thought of gaining that information in itself was reason enough for him to take a gamble with the suggestion. "Jaina. Jaina Proudmoore must know. Where is she?"

"Theramore, most likely," said Joe. "I don't suppose you can just teleport us there, Monroe?"

"I need a bit of time to recharge. And it would be nice to know she's there for sure, because I need a few days to recover from using such a spell."

"Well, I'd say we have plenty of time now," said Joe. "We should probably get Prince Arthas some new clothes, and we could use a few horses. Oh, and some food as well. And maybe a blanket or something."  
"You can stop now," said Monroe. "There's no need to overdo this. I'll be ready for transport in a few days, I said. On a side-note, do we have the money to afford even half of that?"

"With the mission ahead of us, I don't think stealing is off-limits," said Tabitha, already starting to leave without waiting for an answer. As no one made any attempt to say something, she quickened her pace. "Promise I'll only steal from people who don't need much money, then. Oh, and do stay where you are. It'll make it easier to find – on a second thought, move back into the woods a bit. And wolves –" That was when she moved out of hearing range. The trio of men she left did as she told them, moving back behind the cover of the trees in silence. None of them would not speak for the few hours she was gone. The only thing they could hear were eachother's stomachs, breathing, and the occasional minor threat of a wolf howling in the distance.

* * *

 _As I was naming this chapter, I realized that the name I came up with was the old starting quest of undead characters. I may be saying something I can't possibly keep up with all the time, but I thought it would be fun to make some kind of reference to something with chapter names as often as possible. (Like I've done with the title of the story, pretty much.)  
_

 _Here's to hoping this chapter turned out well. Do let me know if I messed something up so horribly that it messes with your overall understanding of the plot I'm creating, because I've had a bit of a messy week so far. After my gap year, school is approaching once again, and I'm noticing that I'm getting a bit anxious over the premise of a new experience that important. (I'm eighteen currently, so I'm supposed to be an adult I guess. Which, in some cases, can be a real bummer.)_

 _The next chapter should be due within a week. I've decided to set up release dates for next chapters and but them in my profile for purposes of peer pressure._


End file.
